


Cough Syrup

by castiowl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Awkwardness, Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, RA Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sickfic, Student Steve Rogers, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 14:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4610022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiowl/pseuds/castiowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weeks into his first semester of college, Steve gets sick. Which is fine, really, except he can't buy himself Nyquil because he's not 18 yet. So he enlists the help of a handsome RA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cough Syrup

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the AU prompt: "I'm hella sick but not old enough to purchase cough medicine and that sounds really pitiful coming from a college student but would you please go buy me some NyQuil???" via [Tumblr](http://bartlebies.tumblr.com/post/111728540220/spookythomassangster-yes-but-theres-also).
> 
> Note: Steve is 17 and Bucky is 19 in this fic, so if that bothers you, bow out. But Steve is well within the age of consent, so I didn't think it warranted an archive warning. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Ma, honest, I’ll be fine,” Steve says in little more than a whine. He feels the familiar tickle and tries to cover the phone in time, but Sarah’s deep sigh when Steve puts the phone back to his ear proves she heard his sneezing fit.

“I’ll go to the nurse first thing in the morning,” he promises. 

“It’s only ten at night. No, I’m coming down. I’ll bring – what do you need me to bring? Do you have soup there or should I stop at the grocery store? Cough medicine, obviously.”

“Ma, if you show up at my dorm, I will not let you in.”

“You need medicine, Steven.”

Uh oh. The full name means she’s deadly serious. But he’s also serious about _not letting his mom into his dorm room_. Sam would never let him live it down. It’s already hard enough being the only 17-year-old college student on campus. He doesn’t need another reason to be mercilessly ribbed by his roommate. 

“Look, I’ll just ask someone to come with me the drug store, okay? I know a guy.”

Sarah hesitates. “Are you sure, honey?”

“Yeah, Ma, I’m sure,” Steve says, infusing his speech with sarcasm, like of _course_ he has a million friends. He’s a shrimpy, underage freshman unable to purchase Nyquil for himself.

“Okay, well, call me if something happens. Or if something doesn’t happen. Just call, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve says, and after a hurried good-bye, finally hangs up.

So, he doesn’t have a lot of options. Sam’s at a party tonight with Natasha and they’re the only two people Steve’s really become friends with since starting college two weeks ago. He doesn’t even have Natasha’s number and he considers calling Sam, but can’t bring himself to ruin the guy’s night. Sam’s so nice Steve’s sure he’d drop everything to come buy cough medicine for him, and that’s too pathetic to even think about, let alone ask, so Steve thinks of other options.

He could ask the RA. That’s what they’re there for, anyway.

Or he could suffer through the night and head over to the nurse in the morning. But his throat is so raw, it’s painful just to breathe, let alone swallow, drink, or eat. His eyes are watery and gross, he can’t breathe through his nose, and the constant coughing and sneezing means absolutely no sleep would be had tonight.

So he’ll ask the RA. 

All things considered, it probably won’t be that bad. Steve met Sharon at orientation and again on move-in day. She’s incredibly friendly. Like, too friendly. As in, she’d asked him to coffee within the first 20 minutes of knowing him and then when Steve told her he was gay, she somehow looked even more delighted and introduced him to all of the other team leaders who were heading the orientation day events.

He can ask Sharon to come with him to Walgreens to buy Nyquil. Easy.

He pulls on suitable clothing for a public appearance in the warm, September night before heading down the hall toward the RA room. It’s a big office that’s been converted into a study room of sorts. The door is always open and the only two exits out of the residence hall are on this side of the building, so the RAs can see anyone coming and going.

Steve steps into the room and immediately feels his stomach sink when he doesn’t find Sharon, but rather one of the other RAs – James, if he remembers correctly. They’ve never spoken, but he was one of the team leaders Sharon had introduced Steve to that first day.

James’ head is stuck in a massive textbook, the eraser side of a pencil trailing his bottom lip distractingly as his eyes flit back and forth across the page. He’s hunched over on one of the two mismatched armchairs in the room.

Steve considers turning back – James hasn’t seen him yet – but it could be Sharon just stepped out. Steve raps his knuckles against the doorframe. James’ head pops up and he looks surprised to see someone standing in the doorway.

“Uh hey, hi, is something wrong? If it’s about Quill upstairs, Maria’s already gone to shut him down.”

Peter Quill’s a notorious party-starter on the third floor, but he’s also known for sneaking cigarettes up to the roof to smoke. Steve wonders what his offense tonight is.

“No, um, actually, I was looking for Sharon?” Steve says.

James stares at Steve a beat too long and Steve swears his eyes drift down. If Steve doesn’t know any better, he’d think James is checking him out.

“You’re Steve, right?” James says.

Steve nods, surprised that James would remember him after such a brief meeting. 

“You don’t look so hot,” James comments.

Steve lets out a laugh, which causes a minor coughing fit. James’ frown deepens.

“God, yeah, sorry,” Steve manages, a pale hand on his chest as if he could physically stop his lungs from heaving. “Got a major cold. I actually, um, wanted to find Sharon to ask her a favor.”

“She’s not on duty for the rest of the week and she went to bed, like, three hours ago because she’s secretly a 90-year-old woman, but I can help if I can,” James says.

Steve hesitates. “I don’t want to be a bother. It’s kind of a big favor.”

“I don’t mind.”

“And sort of embarrassing.”

“I assure you, nothing you tell me will surprise me at this point. You’re an RA for a semester and suddenly you know everyone’s personal business, whether you want to or not.” He closes his textbook with a snap and Steve sees the cover. Organic chemistry. 

“You’re studying,” Steve notes.

James slides the textbook onto the low, beaten-up coffee table with a million watermarks on it. “Not anymore.” James stands and pushes his hands into his pockets, probably in an attempt to look casual and put Steve at ease, but instead it gets Steve’s heart pumping. James is incredibly attractive. Steve noticed at orientation, but now he’s close and they’re alone and James is tall, well-built, handsome as hell with blue eyes, dark eyelashes, and perfectly messy, short hair.

Steve’s mouth goes dry and he knows it has nothing to do with his cold.

“I need to get Nyquil,” Steve says finally.

James blinks a couple times. “Oh, and you don’t wanna walk to the store? Do you not have a car?”

“I have a car,” Steve says and he can feel the burn of embarrassment in his cheeks. “It’s just that, um, I’m not… I can’t, um, buy it. Because I’m not 18 yet.”

James’ jaw moves just slightly and Steve’s sure he’s going to start laughing, but then he nods. “Oh,” he says. “Well, that’s easy. Let me just…” James turns back to the coffee table and grabs his phone. He taps something out and then puts the phone to his ear. After a few seconds, he says, “Maria? Hey. I gotta head to the store… Yeah, that’s fine… Okay… Yeah, I’ll be back… There’s no way I’m doing-… Fuck you, too… That was one time and you can’t hold that against me… I’m not gonna-…” James sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine. I just need you to know how much I hate you right at this exact moment.” He pauses. “Did you feel it, Maria? Did you feel the hate? … Yeah, bye.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Steve says.

James looks at him with his eyebrows raised. “I don’t mind,” he says. “Besides, Maria needs me to pick up something anyway. So, two birds.”

“You don’t even know me,” Steve mumbles and he’s sure James won’t hear him, but no such luck.

James grabs his jacket off the back of the other armchair and slips it on. “Sure I do,” James says and steps toward Steve. Steve steps out into the hallway and waits for James to lock the door to the room before falling into step next to him. “You’re Steve, I’m Bucky. I’m a resident assistant, you’re a resident. I'm here to assist you. Pretty cut and dry, if you ask me.”

“Bucky?” Steve repeats. He’s positive the name written on the guy’s nametag was James at orientation. Steve’s not likely to forget the name to a face like his.

“Ah, yeah. That’s Maria’s thing. She thinks the residents won’t take me seriously as an RA if I go by my nickname, so she makes me go by _James_ when I’m on duty,” he explains. He makes a face and Steve laughs. 

They step outside and the newly autumn night isn’t quite cold enough to really warrant anything more than a light jacket, but Steve feels the bite of the cold like it’s the middle of winter. Steve hears a jingle and sees Bucky digging in his pocket and pulling out his keys.

“I don’t mind driving,” Steve says.

Bucky gives him a look out of the corner of his eye. “No offense, but you barely look well enough to walk. Besides,” he says and Steve is startled by the flashing lights of a dark sedan in the very first parking spot ahead of them, “preferred parking for RAs.” Bucky’s smile gleams in the fluorescent lights and Steve feels himself warm a little from the inside out.

  


* * *

  


The store is, not surprisingly, pretty empty when they arrive. The cashier greets them when they come in and after taking a few steps into the store, Bucky says, “Hey, why don’t you grab the Nyquil? I gotta get a few things. We’ll meet back here.”

Steve nods and they split up. Steve has just located the cold and flu aisle when he hears the muted “holy shit” from a few aisles over. Steve huffs out a laugh, grabs a bottle of Nyquil, and heads toward the voice.

He finds Bucky, hands in his pockets, staring blankly at the expansive wall of feminine hygiene products. 

“Did ya get lost?” Steve asks.

“When Maria said ‘get tampons’ I didn’t realize I was supposed to ask, like, what the family, genus, and species was.”

Steve laughs, which starts another coughing fit, one that causes mild concern from Bucky. 

When Steve finally catches his breath, he says, “Uh, here, get these.” Steve grabs a box off the shelf and hands them to Bucky.

“You sure?” Bucky asks dubiously, staring down at the box like it might bite him.

“Plastic, not cardboard. Middle of the road absorbency. Not scented. Pretty safe. Probably won’t get you yelled at.”

“Should I ask how you know anything about this?” Bucky asks as he leads them back up to the registers.

“Best friend back home is a girl,” Steve says. “Peggy. And she was never exactly shy about that kind of stuff.”

“Guess not,” Bucky mutters to himself. He smiles at the cashier who, to her credit, doesn’t even look twice at the box of tampons as she scans them. When she asks to see Bucky’s ID for the Nyquil, Steve’s grateful he didn’t try to go out and buy it himself in the hopes that the cashier would forget to ask to see his ID. 

“Thanks again,” Steve says as they climb back into the car. 

“I should thank you for saving my life,” Bucky says, putting the car in gear. “Probably would’ve really fucked that up in there and then never heard the end of it from Maria, who would tell Sharon who would tell Natasha… Anyway, thanks.”

“I doubt it’d be that bad,” Steve says.

“You don’t know Natasha,” Bucky quips.

“Romanoff?”

Bucky looks over at him, surprised. “Yeah. I guess you do know her.”

“Yeah, I met her through my roommate, Sam.”

“Oh shit, you’re Sam’s roommate. I forgot.”

“Should I be worried that you know that?”

“Well, it’s sorta my job. Plus, Sam’s older brother graduated last year. He was an RA and we all knew him. So now we all know Sam.”

Steve briefly wondered who “we” was in this context, but figured Bucky meant the current RAs. 

“So, can I ask?” Bucky says after a short silence.

“What?”

“You’re 17, right? So, were you, like, super smart?”

Steve laughs. “Not exactly. I was just super sick as a kid so I was homeschooled. And when you’re homeschooled but also can’t physically get out of bed, you do a lot of schoolwork. I tested out of basically all of the sophomore-level classes once I was well enough to go back to school in high school so they let me skip a grade.”

“How’s that not super smart?” Bucky asks.

Steve shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know. All I know is that it sucks not being able to buy your own cough medicine when you’re in college.”

Bucky laughs at that and it’s a wonderful sound. Too soon, they’re pulling back into the parking lot and walking back into the residence hall.

They stop at the RA room so Bucky can pull out the Nyquil and give it to Steve. “Thanks,” Steve says.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” Bucky replies and gives him a big smile. “And feel better!” he adds as Steve turns to leave.

As Steve heads back to his room, he hears the muted voice of Maria coming from the RA room, followed by laughter.

  


* * *

  


Steve sees Bucky a week later when he’s finally back to feeling 100%. Bucky, on the other hand, looks like he’s in need of a mercy killing. Steve almost doesn’t recognize the hunched figure slumping toward him down the hall, except he looks up and smiles at Steve when he recognizes him.

Bucky’s wearing a black hoodie, the hood pulled up to cover his mussed hair and sickly pale face. His eyes are red and watery and he makes a very familiar sniffling noise before saying, “Hey, Steve.”

Steve laughs a little and, selfishly, is grateful he didn’t dress like a slob for class today. Instead, he opted for skinny jeans and a flannel shirt. He’s wearing his glasses because he couldn’t be bothered to put in his contacts, but other than that, he thinks it’s probably a marked improvement since the last time Bucky saw him.

“Feelin’ okay, Buck?”

Bucky smiles wide. “Peachy,” he says. “I’ve got, like, little aliens laying eggs in my brain which are subsequently hatching and leaking out of my face, but yeah, no, I’m awesome.”

Steve laughs and leans in conspiratorially. “Y’know,” he says in a low voice, “I hear someone on this floor has Nyquil. If you ask around, I’m sure you could find some.”

Bucky laughs at that and goes to run a hand through his hair, but finds the hood is in the way. He blushes. Or maybe it’s the fever. It’s probably the fever.

“Yeah, I might do just that,” Bucky admits. “This thing has knocked me out. I missed a lab today.”

“I hope it wasn’t my fault,” Steve says. 

They move aside as a chatting couple passes them in the hall. Steve’s still got a bag full of English books over his shoulder since he was heading to his room after class when he ran into Bucky and it’s killing his back.

“Do you want the Nyquil now? I’m right here.” Steve motions a few feet behind Bucky at his dorm door.

“Really? That would be awesome. And I doubt it was you. Basically everyone on the second floor is oozing green slime.”

“That’s a really attractive image, thank you,” Steve says as he unlocks the door. 

Sam’s at one of the two small desks, typing away at his laptop. He looks up and puts a hand up at Steve. “Hey, man,” he says.

“Hey,” Steve says. He goes to his dresser and pulls out the drawer where he keeps randomly assorted meds and sundry things that don’t belong anywhere else.

“Oh, hey Bucky,” Sam says.

They must be having some sort of silent conversation because while Steve roots around for the hidden bottle of Nyquil, he hears Bucky hiss out, “Shut. Up. Sam.”

By the time he finds it and turns around, the two are smiling sweetly at Steve. Steve frowns at them, but decides not to ask. He offers the Nyquil to Bucky who takes it, his fake smile dissolving into a real one that reaches his eyes.

“You’re my savior,” Bucky says.

“Don’t mention it,” Steve replies.

“Well, listen,” Sam says loudly, closing his laptop with a bit more gusto than necessary, “I was gonna head to the library and be back in, like, three hours? So I-“

“No, it’s fine, I should go,” Bucky cuts in. “I’ll see you guys around.” He turns and heads out.

“What the hell was that about?” Steve asks, rounding on Sam.

Sam shrugs and opens his laptop again, looking a little defeated. “Just thought you guys wanted some space.”

Steve stops himself from asking why the hell he and Bucky would need space just to exchange cold medicine.

  


* * *

  


Another week passes by and Steve sees Bucky several times, but one of them is always leaving (and if it’s Bucky, late) for class, so they don’t have time to talk.

Steve is returning from his film studies class – his only night class – when he notices someone standing in the doorway to his room. As he gets closer he realizes it’s Bucky and Steve’s heart actually skips a beat because he’s pathetic.

“Hey,” Steve says.

Bucky turns and his smile lights up his face. “Steve!” he says cheerfully.

“Bucky!” Steve mocks, a little worried that Bucky is by his room at 9 at night acting so happy to be there.

Bucky laughs and moves aside so Steve can step into the room. Sam is there, rifling through his backpack. “Um, listen,” Sam says, pulling out a spiral notebook, “Nat missed class today? So I gotta run these to her. I’ll be back in ten-” 

Bucky clears his throat.

“Twenty minutes,” Sam says. “Twenty minutes. And, um, yeah.”

“O… kay,” Steve says, watching as his roommate trips over himself to leave. “What, do I smell funny?” Steve asks.

“Nah,” Bucky says.

Steve pulls his laptop out of his bag and puts it on the desk before turning back to Bucky. “So, did you need something?” Steve asks. He figured once Sam left, Bucky would excuse himself, but he looks pretty comfortable, leaning casually against the doorframe, hands deep in his pockets.

“Uh, no, no. Just, um, are you feeling better?” Bucky asks.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “I was sick, like, three weeks ago, Buck. It’d be more appropriate to ask if _you_ are feeling better, but you look good.”

Bucky’s smile widens and Steve flounders for a moment. “Not _good_ , I mean, just, you look _fine_. Not _fine_ , but just-”

“Have you ever been to Betty’s?” Bucky cuts in.

Steve lets out a breath, aware that his whole face is burning and probably bright red. “No,” he manages.

“It’s amazing. Great hole-in-the-wall place right in downtown. We should go.”

“Oh, I…”

“You can continue to tell me how _good_ I look,” Bucky teases.

Steve makes a face and Bucky laughs. “I don’t, um,” Steve starts.

“C’mon,” Bucky coaxes, all bright eyes and playful smile. “Go out with me. Just once and then if it’s awful, you can spread rumors about me throughout the building.”

“You wanna take me out?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

“On a date?”

Bucky laughs. “Yeah, sorry, did you not get that?”

“I’m starting to.”

“Well, let me know when you catch up.” 

There’s a pause before Steve grins wide. “I’d love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> They didn't even kiss wtf @ me
> 
> Tidbits: Bucky's basically been pining after Steve since he walked into that RA room all gross and sick, which both Sam and Nat know about and have been PRESSURING HIM to JUST ASK HIM OUT OH MY GOD BUCKY which is why Sam is always ready to dash when they're together. Such a good bro. // Bucky once made Maria buy condoms for him, which is the only reason he agreed to buy her tampons (which she claimed are a lot less embarrassing to buy). // Bucky is a BioChem major and Steve is undecided (but he's probably gonna do art, let's be honest). // Natasha and Sam don't even have a class together, which Steve realizes while he's on that date with Bucky. He's not pleased.
> 
> honestly i could write in this 'verse for ages it was so much fun!! now back to your regularly scheduled programming (aka procrastinating writing my main fic)
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://bartlebies.tumblr.com).


End file.
